


two faced

by trouserhouser



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Charles has two personalities, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, a bit of astrology
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:42:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23279563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trouserhouser/pseuds/trouserhouser
Summary: When Max laid in the grass and looked up into the night sky, he noticed that Charles was like the stars: beautiful but out of reach; like light years: he changed like no other
Relationships: Charles Leclerc/Max Verstappen
Kudos: 17





	two faced

As Max met Charles for the first time, the latter didn’t expect to be accepted. He quickly realized that Max was different from his “friends”, who shrank and left him when Ethan showed himself. Ethan, who did not show aggression like Charles, but kept relocating the house key and was almost declared crazy by his soft spot for art (at least Lando described it as pious gesture to process his psychotic thoughts). Ethan didn’t resent Lando, he was far too forgetful for it, no longer remembered his risky actions and sometimes ignored the fact that he, Ethan, was not real. Charles, on the other hand, seemed to be crowding him out, he had tantrums that usually had to be kept to a minimum with sedatives. He detested art as soon as art seemed to hate him, because his drawings were worse than that of a five-year-old, traumatized child, who used black coal to vent his abuse. Charles was also interested in dogs of all kinds, he never talked about bears like Ethan would.

Max loved him. Charles. Ethan. In any case, he tried to justify his strange feeling in his stomach with the definition of love. Charles and Ethan always put him on a test like right now. Max looked at the label of the blue packaging. It showed salted peanuts, jumping against the viewer in a rather unrealistic image. Should he put them on the picnic blanket with the other groceries or leave them in his backpack with the sliced watermelon? (but Charles hated watermelon and maybe Ethan too). Why did he even come up with the idea of taking these two things with him when he knew exactly that he had to worry all evening that Ethan couldn’t find the peanuts? Charles' alter was heavily allergic to nuts.

Had Ethan been present today? Charles peered over at his friend, his golden skin glistening in the last rays of the evening sun, and his blue eyes studied the damp grass as if green were the only thing that seemed to hold him in this world. This wasn’t Ethan, this was indeed Charles. Charles, the calm boy, provided that his aggression was hidden behind the gentle, cozy nature of him. Ethan could never sit so still, even if he was drawing, he fidgeted on the chair and scribbled fifty times next to his work. But it gave his pictures even more expression than the second identity already represented. Max loved Charles and his tons of personalities, provided he carried so many. Which is exactly why he pulled the can of salted peanuts out and held it in Charles’s direction.

“If you like, Charles.” Maybe Max made it up, but he felt more comfortable calling him by his name so that he would stay in his host. The brown-haired man tore his eyes from the grass and ran them over the packaging until they stuck to Max and took his breath away.

“My name is Charles, isn’t it?” His pupils slipped from his consciousness and stared into the distance. Max tried to stay calm.

“Yes, nobody else. Charles. You like peanuts!”

“Am I not allergic to them?” It surprised Max every time how one and the same body with different persons could react differently to food. Ethan would choke on the first peanut, while Charles devoured whole doses of them.

“Charles isn’t allergic to peanuts.” Max immediately regretted talking about Charles in third person.

“But I am allergic to them!”

“Ethan…” Max sighed and packed the salted peanuts back into his camping luggage.

“Do you like watermelon?”

“Water-…melon.” The fruit must have triggered a memory in his friend that reminded him of old times, _bad days._ Max knew how to help himself, he changed the subject and took Ethan’s thoughts with him. He talked with Charles again, about Daniil and his new habit of drugging, chatted about Lando’s clumsiness, and questioned Alex sexuality as always.

“Actually, he wanted to hide the photo, but to my surprise Alex played with open cards and literally rubbed the picture under my nose! George and him!” Charles smirked every time Max shouted louder, gestured enthusiastically, and had to watch out for him because he used hands and feet. Max secretly hoped that his extrovert character would help Charles staying Charles. Because no matter he turned it, Charles was still his favourite. You couldn’t separate Charles from Ethan any more than you could separate Ethan from Charles – at least not yet. If Max loved Charles, he also loved Ethan, because loving Charles meant living with his dissociative identity disorder, helping him and not repelling him, or declaring him crazy, as all his “friends” did.

A small, shimmering brown beetle made its way into the yoghurt bowl. His long antennae danced lazily around and his legs clung to the plastic container.

“I think we should put that away…the fruit bowl over there too.” Charles reached for the blue object and covered it with the aluminium foil he had brought with him, while Max watched his beautiful, veined hand. Charles was stunning in every way: his glowing skin, full pink lips, shiny brown hair and blue eyes. He could only guess at his good physique from the sweater, not missing an opportunity to stare at Charles’s biceps and accidentally touch him when he was only dressed in a tank top or t-shirt. Max laid down and watched him for a long time as Charles ran his fingers through the wet grass, seemed to suck in the green with his eyes and his ever-piqued index finger, which stuck violently into his side.

“Max Verstappen, if you don’t wake up from your hypnosis right away, I will pack my stuff and go!”

“Sorry.” Max pulled back his hand, which was magically attracted to Charles’s leg. He got annoyed about his carelessness (again), but at such moments, time just stopped. He hadn’t noticed Charles carefully packing each bowl and putting it into the tent, even though he had watched every step closely. Neither did he notice that it was getting dark. Max grabbed his ribbons, which had not been swallowed by the hood on his hoodie yet, and tried to distract himself, just not tempted to touch Charles, stroke over his strong arms, or stare at his inviting lips. Although this is exactly what happened: lip-staring. However, Charles now stared openly at Max’s pretty mouth and was caught red-handed on purpose. The latter knew no other way to help and grinned like stupid, looked deep into Charles' soul mirrors, which shone as if he had caught the light of the world behind them. This time it was Charles who could not escape his stare, he leaned against Max, who now simply existed beside him, irritated and confused. No, Max was completely abandoned by his mind and consciousness that only his instincts turned on. Instincts that he never wanted to let out, which he had suppressed in his body since his first encounter with Charles.

There was this one little thing: Charles liked men, Ethan was asexual. You couldn’t say anything about Charles, who wrapped his arm around Max, not being the biggest pervert on earth. Not that Max was uncomfortable with that. He was himself controlled by his lust, only careful when it came to Charles. But to feel his body heat through his grey sweater was enough, the dam broke and Max instincts took over. The brown-haired man buried his head in Max’ shoulder and slowly and gently ran his hand up and down his chest.

“You know”, Charles’s voice whispered into the silence, “I admire your way of dealing with me. Somehow you get along with me.” The corners of Max’s mouth twitched, warmed by the praise.

“I try very hard with you.” His laugh rubbed off on Charles.

“Thank you, Max.” Then there was pure silence. They laid on the blanket, Charles’s arm wrapped around Max’s neck, eyes fixed on the stars. It was Charles who broke the silence again.

“Sometimes you are so admirable that I don’t even know how to feel." Max listened, tried to pull himself up and look into his friend’s confused pupils, but he stayed in Charles’s arm to let him continue.

“What do you mean?” Charles turned his eyes to Max.

“You make me so confused.” Max gulped next to him. He wanted more specific answers, but Charles wasn’t quick-witted.

“Charles, I don’t understand-.“ Their lips touched. Max was out of words. It seemed like his brain was put in the washing machine, not clean, but still with dirty thoughts, although the spinning process certainly made laundry feel exactly the same (if textiles had feelings).” They stood still, eyes glittering until Max got overwhelmed and crashed his lips onto Charles' again. Charles fell back on the ground, the other clutched his upper arm, felt for muscles and used his tongue to explore the brown-haired man’s mouth.

After a few seconds, he felt resistance.

_Ethan._

“I, you know, that I…uhm.” Max facial features slipped away. He nodded barely and brought some space between them.

“I am sorry.” _No, I am not._

He laid back on the grass, glanced up and saw the myriad of shining lights in the distance. He always imagined how every star in the galaxy represented a deceased person. Charles was just like the stars. They seemed so close and yet so far. They would never be attainable if the light took several million years to reach the earth at all. And maybe one or two of the stars had already burned up, but they wouldn’t see it until a few million years from now.

Max saw Ethan too late. Charles had burned up and gave way to Ethan. He had missed the moment.

“I wish your eyes didn’t shine then I wouldn’t mistake you for them.”

“What?”

Max didn’t answer, folded his arms behind his head and looked up at the brightest celestial body that Charles had called "Dad”.


End file.
